


A Story Of Death

by SocialBookWorm, wisepuma23



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angel Patton, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF everyone, Demon Logan, Implied Manipulation, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, Starts fluffy and descends into never ending darkness, There is a happy ending we swear, Witch Roman, non-descriptive gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14496435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialBookWorm/pseuds/SocialBookWorm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisepuma23/pseuds/wisepuma23
Summary: Patton has been Virgil’s best friend since they meet in kindergarten. When he learned that he was his Guardian Angel, it was no surprise to Virgil. The two of them share a home, a business and someday, an altar. He was there for Patton the same way Patton was there for him. They would tear themselves apart for each other.Things change when a new customer and a demon with old history with Patton arrive.Heaven and Hell could come knocking, they were ready.(They really weren’t)





	1. Darling Dove

**Author's Note:**

> TAKE TWO! A Story of Death reborn! We are so excited for this you have no idea. This is going to be a monster of a fic, but it's gonna be such an amazing ride! Brace yourselves and enjoy!!

“The scones are ready!” Patton called from the back, and Virgil turned around to see Patton walk out, “Delicious and hot.”

“Just like you.” Virgil said with a smile, “The cafe is about to open in thirty minutes.”

Patton leaned over to kiss him. Virgil’s smile grew bigger, then he registered jam on his fiance's lips, “Did you eat some biscuits again?”

Patton giggled, “Maybe.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning up the counter. He heard the usual noise and bustle of Patton walking around setting up the cafe for the day. The tip jar was emptied last night to prepare for the next day’s customers, decorated with lace and hearts, it was a bit of both of them.

Virgil felt a hand on his hips move him aside. Patton gave him a grateful peck on the cheek as he leaned down to set his scones into the display case. Virgil went to the various tables in the cafe, sunlight streaming in from the windows, and wiped them down with his grey rag. His anxiety spiked at the sight of the dishes they hadn't done last night.

Virgil cleaned them up and put them in the back for later.

Patton went to the door to flip the sign to ‘Open!’ as Virgil made it back to his counter. Now they just had time to kill. Patton looked at him with a blinding smile. Yeah, life was good.

Then he saw a shadow of wings behind Patton. Faint and indistinct. Feathers caught in the glint of the sunlight.

“Are your glasses on?” Virgil asked as he stepped closer and pushed up his glasses.

“Yeah!” Patton said, his accent thickened when he was excited, but it only made him more endearing, “I’ll _see_ to double checking.”

Patton winked.

Virgil let out a light laugh, “I’m not awake yet, Pat. Now did you turn off the stove?”

“Yup!” Patton popped with his lips as he tied his blue apron tighter, “And I set the muffins on the hot plate, the ingredients are stocked, windows are cracked open but not wide enough to become another door. We’re not going to run out of food or beat back thieves who try to steal our delicious cookies!”

Virgil rubbed his hands down his purple apron, “But what if-”

“Honey,” Patton said, putting a hand on his cheek. Virgil leaned into it, “It’s been two years. I think we got it down pat-ton.”

Virgil took in a breath and nodded. He’d known Patton since they met in kindergarten. It wasn’t a huge surprise when Patton told him he was his Guardian Angel when they were nineteen and in love. Patton was already an angel to him. Wings or not. Virgil proposed to him three months ago and he still woke up sometimes scared it wasn’t real. Patton went back to adjusting the display. The glint of his engagement ring caught the light.

“Hey Patton,” Virgil said, he fiddled with his own ring, “Guess what?”

“What?” Patton said as he looked up.

“I love you.” Virgil said, his heart still stuttered in his chest every time he said it, “That’s it.”

Patton broke out into a soft laugh, “I love you too, Virgil.”

It never got old.

The morning was often quiet. They had the regulars shuffle in and get their coffee and biscuits before walking to work. Virgil was in the middle of writing down the order of a lady that looked like she’d rather be home in bed. Grey Earl tea with two sugars. Then he felt it. His throat closed up and his spine prickled. Darkness that clawed at his heart and a smell of sulfur that made his nose tingle.

He fought through the sensation and wrote down the order.

“Is something wrong?” Patton said as he stepped away from their coffee machine, “Virgil?”

“No- Yes- I don’t know.” Virgil said as the customer walked away. He turned to look at Patton and his smile was gone. His eyes were piercing through his glasses and something like understanding flickered through them. Virgil thought he saw wings expand at the edge of his vision. Large and intimidating and -

“Ah,” Patton said, his features had shifted into stone, “I’ll go handle it.” A heavy accent, one that Virgil had never placed despite knowing its celestial origins, coated his words like syrup, “I trust you can look after our shop until I return. Remain here.”

“Pat-” Virgil cut in, he reached out and grabbed his hand, “Be careful, dear. Please.”

Patton softened and looked more like a bubbly cafe owner than a statue that belonged in the Vatican. Virgil didn’t care if his soon to be husband looked like one or the other, he loved them both. Patton held his face in his hands and leaned forward to kiss him. Short and sweet. His hands scratching his scalp and making his nerves sing.

Virgil’s eyes fluttered as the smell of lightning filled his nose. Sharp yet edged with an ancient air that spoke of eons. He made a habit of rolling up his sleeves and today it worked in his favor. The bristles on his arm shivered as soft feathers brushed it. Again faint enough that he could almost believe he imagined it.  

“I won’t leave you so soon.” Patton said, words light despite the heavy emotion behind it, “May your morning be filled with miracles.”

Patton went to the back and with a faint rustle of feathers he was gone. Virgil took in another breath and turned to the next customer. A biscuit and coffee combo. He hoped that Patton returned before the inevitable lunch rush. Or at all. Virgil shook his head. He shouldn’t even _think_ it.

The sky darkened as clouds drifted in front of the morning sun. Soon his thoughts was drowned out by the white noise of his cafe. It was their baby and he was going to take care of it. Virgil lost himself in his work but always kept an eye on the clock.

He was going to come back, he always did.

* * *

 

Patton loved the air through his wings as he cut through clouds, eyes locked on the edge of town. The feel of his own Grace from the wards grew as he approached and his sword landed heavy on his hand. He narrowed his eyes. Devils, thank Father. He wasn’t sure how well he’d stand up against a full demon at this point, though he knew it would do nothing to stop him.

His eyes flickered over them, doing a swift headcount. Five.

Holy flames roared to life on his sword and the devils looked up as he landed in the middle of them, hard and fast as he took advantage of their surprise. Iron flooded his nose as he cut through the first devil’s back. Patton whirled on his heel, steel clashing with steel as he parried a knife to his back. A twist and flick of his wrist sent the knife spinning into the distance. Then Patton had to dance back as one of the others pressed forwards.

The darkness of their souls pressed against his Grace and Patton flared his wings and Grace in response. One devil screeched from his holy touch and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. They were weaker ones. New and unaware of how deadly wandering close to this particular town could be. Patton danced, ducking under one attack and lashing out with his foot, sending the other devil flying back.

He saw the devil land as his sword swung up to block her claws. Sparks flew as his Grace clashed with her Corrupted soul. He flinched back as it burned at his cheek. Then he stiffened as his back hit someone else’s. He flipped his sword in his hand and turned it to stab backwards.

He froze.

A deadly mistake in the middle of combat, but Patton couldn’t help himself.

The hair in the corner of his eyes was too familiar, he had missed _him_ too much to control his reaction.

Shoulders slammed back into his. He snapped back into the present and Patton fought back a giddy grin. He felt _his_ tail wrap around his ankle as his sword arched up. The devil’s face fell slack in surprise as his sword’s tip dug into her chest. It caught on her ribs. Blood sprayed, and Patton grit his teeth. The taste of copper heavy on his tongue. He swung again, and beheaded her as she lunged for him again.

He put slight pressure on the shoulder behind him. He forgot his distaste for violence at the neat spin that his friend executed at the silent signal. His sword buried itself into the chest of a stunned devil. Bone and sinew saw the sun.

Patton could almost pretend that it was before the War and nothing had changed.

He grinned. No. Nothing had changed at all.

Patton stood, breathing heavily as he stared at the way the devil crumpled to the ground, and willed himself to turn around. He needed to see it for himself. He needed to know that his greatest _dream_ had come true.

“Phanuel,” the quiet voice was all he needed, and training be damned. The devils could be faking and run him through for all he cared in that moment. He whirled around. Patton’s sword clanged to the ground. Patton pressed his hands to his mouth to hold back a sob as Lahash gave him a hesitant grin.

Patton ran and crashed into the arms that already opened for him. Lahash stumbled back from the sheer force that Phanuel slammed into him. Phanuel buried his head into the demon’s neck, he trembled as those arms wrapped around him for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been _eons._ He didn’t care that they were tipping backwards, or that Lahash had a tail now, one that was now wrapped around his waist.

Phanuel tangled his hands in the demon's hair and pressed their foreheads together. He grinned wild, bright and free, and _Father_ his chest ached from excitement. Lahash grinned back, his red eyes sparkled in the sun as boney wings brushed against his feathered ones.

“I missed you,” Phanuel whispered, the _long_ years dropping away for a single, clear moment. He felt like a fledgling again. His Grace reached out, brushing against Lahash’s, and the way that the Corrupted Grace reached out in return left him sobbing.

“And I, you,” Lahash said, his voice wavering. Phanuel pressed himself closer as if the closeness could erase the long epochs between them. He bumped his nose against Lahash’s and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at the demon’s face.

“I remembered.” Phanuel’s hands drifted down from Lahash’s hair to his face, fingertips skimming across cheeks and eyelids. Lahash’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch. He leaned into it and Phanuel’s breath caught in his throat, “I thought I’d forget your face. But I didn’t. Father, it’s as gorgeous as I remember.”

Lahash let out a soft laugh, “And you’re as warm as I remember.”

Phanuel flushed and Lahash chuckled again. “Just like a rose in the garden.” Rough hands reached up and cupped Phanuel’s face, his thumbs brushing at the tear tracks on his face. “I wish I had one to give you, to tuck behind your ear so that all could see how it pales in comparison.”

Phanuel reached up to clasp his hands over the ones on his cheeks. Lahash leaned down to bump their foreheads. Phanuel’s little sniffles still hadn't let up. It was clear that he had run of words to say. Lahash’s horns got caught in his halo. Their noses bumped together and their grace twined together.

Phanuel’s emotions choked his throat and made his legs weak. Lahash was here. His body was warm against his own. He felt he could keep crying until he died. The line between happiness and sorrow blurred.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” Phanuel whispered, “You loved me and then you _left._ Sometimes,” his voice shook, “I thought you **_died_ **. And I wouldn’t have even known!” His voice jumped into a panicked shrill, “I didn’t hear anything about what happened to you.”

Lahash put a thumb gently over Patton’s lips, “I am here now and that’s all matters. Against all odds and fate, I’m here.” Lahash buried his face into Patton’s cheek, “And I’m not leaving you again.”

Phanuel pressed a kiss against Lahash’s thumb, as soft and light as the feathers along his wings. His face spread into a gentle smile against the tears in his eyes as he whispered, “The first time you told me that was in the gardens. Do you remember?”

“Always,” Lahash said, “You had made us both flower crowns, and refused to let me take mine off. I kept it in my room until our Heavens joined, and we kept them on display by the doorway.”

“The stars above us,” Phanuel added, “A warm breeze making the plants rustle. You kissed me.”

Lahash tugged Phanuel’s palm towards his face and kissed the palm lightly. “And I would continue to do so.”

“You said that you wouldn’t leave me right before you Fell too,” Phanuel said. His mouth snapped shut in surprise, and he looked away. He didn’t want to know how much Lahash regretted his choice, or if he did at all. Phanuel’s shoulders trembled with barely contained hurt and anger.

Then the sound of Rascal Flatts ‘ _Bless the Broken Road’_ broke the moment. Patton reached into his pocket and fumbled with his phone. It lit up with a silly picture of Virgil and Patton in sixth grade on their school field day. Virgil covered in paint and Patton’s baby face covered in glitter, his tongue sticking out. He slid his thumb to answer Virgil’s call.

“Yes, dear?” Patton said, the endearment slipped out, and he winced, “Lunch rush? I’ll be there. What?” Patton felt the heat of Lahash’s fingers leave his own, “I’m fine.” he stepped back and held up a finger, “Trust me, Virgil, I’m _fine._ It was happy crying. I swear.” Patton broke out into a loud laugh, “Hailey the Coffee Addict arrived again? Oh my father, you can’t be serious. She said that?”

Patton glanced again at Lahash. His expression dark and stormy. Nerves played in his stomach as he realized he was staring at his ring. His _engagement_ ring. Oh boy. He had watched enough human reality TV to know ex-husbands were touchy about these sort of things. He swallowed thickly and wiped at his eyes.

“Honey, honey.” Patton said as he smiled as he heard his fiance's rambles on the other line, “Honey.” then Virgil came finally to a stop, “Go get some of the emergency scones in the back and I’ll be right there. Take some deep breaths. You got this. Promise. Kisses and hugs! Love you.”

He heard Virgil’s shy echo. Patton kissed into phone with obnoxious loud mwahs until he heard Virgil giggle on the other line. He beamed as he heard the answering quieter kisses. His heart felt lighter than a cloud and full of sunshine at the sound. Patton and Virgil went back and forth on who should hang up first. They were ‘gross’ as humans called it.

He hung up, grinning down at his phone.

“Phanuel,” Lahash said, his tone tight as he pointed at his ring, “what is _that_?”

“It’s an engagement ring!” Phanuel told him, his feet bounced with excitement, oh Father, he had to meet Virgil! He held out his hand closer to Lahash’s face for him to examine it, “It’s a human practice before the date of the marriage ceremony.”

“I...see…” Lahash said, and then he forced a smile, but Phanuel knew him too well and saw the tightness around his eyes,  “So you’re getting… married… to this Virgil?”

Patton couldn’t help his dopey grin that crossed his face at the reminder, “Yes! All we need to do is decide on the date and we’re official! Or well, more official I guess, seeing as our relationship started-” He paused in counting on his fingers, thinking back to being just out of high school and the look on Virgil’s face when they finally talked things out.

He met Lahash’s eyes and bit down on his tongue. The demon tried to mask it, but Phanuel had spent too long loving him to miss the swirling emotions ― anger, jealousy, and utter heartache ― in Lahash’s eyes. He reached out and brushed his fingers over Lahash’s wrist. Then Patton reached into his pocket and tugged out one of his business cards, and pressed it into Lahash’s palm.

“I need to go,” he said, “But _please_ , we need to talk. Come by, Lash, please.” It was a low blow, using the old nickname, and Phanuel’s stomach lurched at the action. But he _needed_ the demon to come back to him, and he was willing to do what it took for that to happen. He rather not use his renowned ‘tricks’ to do it but he would.

Lahash’s fingers curled slowly around the card as the demon’s wings started to softly glow. Phanuel blinked in surprise while Lahash let out a loud groan. His wings fluttered as if it wanted to take off at this very moment.

“I’m afraid that I need to go, too.” Lahash said, he tucked the card into his front pocket, “A foolish human is calling me back to his abode. He told me that he had accidentally summoned me from the depths of Hell. No doubt he wants me to follow his petty whims.” Lahash let slip a cruel smile, “The taste of his soul will be sweet, deal or not, I will enjoy tearing him apart for wasting my time.”

Phanuel stared at him. He didn’t know why the words out of Lahash’s mouth surprised him. He knew that cruelty and hatred for humankind was par for course for any denizen of Hell. Lahash had _Fallen_ because he too felt humanity didn’t deserve any of Father’s love. Phanuel could see it clear as day in Lahash’s eyes and grace that he meant it.

Phanuel rubbed his arms as Lahash shuffled in place. His wings bright with the urgency of the call yet he ignored it. Phanuel shut his eyes and grit his teeth against his nerves. He reached out and took Lahash’s hand into his own. He felt Lahash’s surprise and then his gentle squeeze.

Neither of them wanted to leave.

“I have to-”

“Of course and I’ll-”

“Farewell-” Phanuel stumbled over his words, “No! See you later. This is a see you later. Father, I _hope_ so.”

“See you later, Phanny.” Lahash said, but he still hadn’t let go. His grip tight enough to almost risk his claws tearing his palm open. Phanuel wouldn’t mind. More tears threatened to spill out. He couldn’t let Lahash leave him like this. Phanuel **_needed_ ** to make him stay.

“Lash,” Phanuel said, and felt hot shame prickle up his neck as he pulled Lahash’s hand and bent down to kiss it. Lips ghosting over his knuckles. His heart fluttered with happiness at this intimate gesture they shared for the first time in millions of years. He could hear Lahash’s hitch in his breath. Phanuel spread his wings and peered up at Lahash through his lashes. A tried and true method for any angel. Lahash’s cheeks flushed red at the intimate display.

“I would be very _pleased_ , if you came to see me.” Phanuel purred, a mixture of sultry and genuine plea, “Come and stay with me, darling.”

“I believe you meant to say ‘dove’ instead of darling.” Lahash muffled his giggle, “Darling? You’ve spent too much time with humanity to have forgotten our old pet names. Even if I no longer have dove wings.”

Phanuel nipped at his knuckles, and let a coy smile play on his face, “My dove, come and see me. I’ve missed you so much. Why don’t you come by and let me show you how grateful I would be to see you. I know how curious you can be,” Phanuel let his tongue tease feather light on his knuckles, “Satisfy your cravings.”

Lahash tore out his hand out from his grip.

“Phanuel.” Lahash said, his voice thick and he cleared his throat, “I will come by your coffee shop.” Phanuel stood up straight and he could read the hidden lust in his ex-husband’s eyes, hook line and sinker, it worked. His wings preened with pride and happiness. He hated that he had fall back on his old ‘tricks’ because he couldn’t trust Lahash to come by himself. Or at least not without an implied reward.

“Great!” Phanuel beamed, “See you later, Lahash!”

Then he took off into the sky. Phanuel flew back to the cafe and the fiance that waited for him. He was going to have to cook some of his best sweets if- _when_ Lahash comes by later today. Phanuel was going to shove cupcakes into Lahash’s mouth until Lahash forgets to ask for something else on his lips. It was going to work. Phanuel suspected that Lahash hadn’t changed at all in all of the time they had been apart.

Good.

The same couldn’t be said for Phanuel. He tried to forget that fact as he appeared in the back of the cafe. Virgil startled with a yelp in the middle of icing some sugar cookies as Patton came up behind him and hugged him. Virgil’s giggles echoed in his ears as Patton kissed the powdered sugar off his cheeks.

But for now, that was enough.

* * *

 

That was awfully strange of Phanuel.

Lahash felt another tug on his corrupted Grace and he rolled his eyes. How could he forget? A human wanted him at beck and call. His earlier train of thought lay forgotten.

Lahash snapped open his wings and flew back to fulfill his human’s call. He appeared in a dirty apartment that reeked of a typical man living alone. Just from the smell he knew dishes in the sink hadn’t been maintained as properly as they should’ve. His eyes landed on the human who summoned him. The human wore a shirt that had a picture of an incredibly inaccurate portrayal of a princess with dark pajama pants, and Lahash refrained from rolling his eyes at it.

Lahash cleared his throat.

The human yelped and the sound of a knife clattered to the floor. Lahash sighed, striding further into the man’s home. He eyed the couch, claimed by pizza boxes, and decided to stand instead. Humans were disgusting. Fluids upon fluids. Their short lives that only lusted for fame and glory, things that didn’t really matter in the end.

“Where were you?” the human said as he stood up, his finger made a hard jab into his chest, “I asked you to stay put! I still don’t know how I summoned you and I had to go get some more books. Do you know how hard it is to sneak books from Ma?”

“First, you asked me, you didn’t _command_ me.” Lahash said, as he adjusted his glasses. He was tempted to take off his glamor but not this early, “Second, I was greeting an old friend I haven’t seen in eons. So pardon me for having a social life while-” Lahash looked around with an eyebrow raise, “-you do not.”

“You’re a demon, how do you have _friends_?” the human said, “And how dare you. I do have a social life! I’m the life of the party.”

“Yikes.” Lahash said, “I am _very_ old, older than you can even comprehend, and I know the look of a man who eats pizza alone at 3 AM.”

“....You got me there, Horny Boy.”

“That’s not my name and if you think that it is then you have more problems than your lack of fresh food in your refrigerator.” Lahash said, “And on the subject of names, forgive me for not asking earlier, but what is yours?”

The human froze and his words stumbled out of his mouth. Lahash could see his soul shake in his chest with nerves. It was only a name, unless, this human knew the _power_ of names. Lahash peered closer into his soul and he could see sparks fly as the soul grew more nervous. Magic. Of course, a witch, however he didn’t expect a witch to become….Lahash looked around the apartment again….like _this_ while he was in Hell for a century.

He shouldn’t feel disappointment when his expectations were already so low. Maybe that was his problem, he shouldn’t have any. Even the skulls that rested on various shelves were fake and reeked of plastic. Where was the blood and grim? The magic that made the walls smell of rot instead of old pizza.

“My name is…” the human swallowed, “My name is Prince.”

“Pardon me while I laugh,” Lahash tilted his head back, “...ha.” he snapped back to glare at the human-- _Prince_ , “That is not your name. I refuse to believe it.”

“Well believe it.” Prince said as he leaned on a book stack then yelped as it fell under his weight, and he fell to the floor with a sad thump, “.....I need coffee.”

Lahash squatted down next to Prince, eyes boring into his, “You just summoned a being that remembers the **Beginning** and you want to go get _coffee_ ? I do not need to shackled to petty little human whims when there is--” _a war on the horizon_ , he finished in his mind, “Dismiss me before you piss me off.”

“It’s too early for this, Penta-grandpa.” Prince stood up and went into his room to change. Lahash crossed his arms as he waited. Prince came back out in a red jacket, jeans, and a shirt with a giant rainbow on it, each color bright. A flash of memory came to him, of a small Phanuel telling him that he loved rainbows, and Lahash let his cold black heart soften. It’s been so long since he thought of his childhood without the urge to maim someone.

“Oh no.”

Lahash startled at the terrified tone, his grace immediately swept for danger, “Did something trouble you?”

“You’re _smiling_.” Prince said horrified, “Okay that’s it. I’m not leaving you alone, not when you’re thinking of something evil, or whatever that makes demons happy. I don’t know, like putting forks into my toilet and make my landlord angry.”

“Why would I put--”

“I’m getting you some coffee and you’re going to give me your company.” Prince said as he opened the door, “Got it, Lahash?”

Something _clicked_ between them. Lahash groaned and rubbed his forehead. Such _poor_ wording. He must be new, but not only that, _bad_ at being a witch. Prince rubbed his chest and looked at him. Confusion etched into his chiseled face. His soul must be feeling the weight of what had just transpired.

“Congratulations.” Lahash said with a forced cheeriness, “You have got yourself a **deal**.”


	2. Demons for Dummies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman has to handle the fact that he has a _demon deal_ now on his soul. And it doesn't help that said demon is snarky as all hell. Why couldn't he just summon a simple assistant? Not one with sass. Meanwhile, Virgil notices his fiancé is antsy in the cafe. Then there are new arrivals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** light cursing

Roman had long since mastered the art of smiling and waving as he walked down the street. Shoulders thrown back, chin tilted just slightly up, and a long confident stride would fool just about anyone into thinking he was fine even when he wasn’t. And at the moment, he really, really wasn’t.

 _Oh god_ , Ma was going to kill him. He was a dead man walking and for more than the demon deal he hadn’t meant to make with the demon he hadn’t meant to summon.

Don’t worry Ma, it’s the quietest town in the state. Don’t worry Ma, I’ll lay off the magic and focus on writing. Don’t worry Ma, I’ll be _fine_.

So much for _that._ Roman had to kiss the cushy life away from his mother good-bye. He was fairly certain that he was going to be locked in her basement until the end of time, or Ma found a way to break the deal, whichever came first. He was never going to get that best seller done, let alone the series he was doing now, and the thought of that ached. No, it was more of a horrific burn, and Roman didn’t want to think about that.

He’d rather focus on that flipping cute barista that worked at Starbucks and the easy no pressure flirting that was in his future. Maybe he’d actually be able to control his mouth to some extent. Or at least turn the ever flowing waterfall of prose and rush of flowery words to a target that wouldn’t be shredded into ever flowing driftwood like the way his future had just been destroyed. Yeah, like that.

Roman paused when the steady footsteps that had been next to him stopped and he ripped himself from his internal monologue- which in his defence was a beautiful monologue, could use some work but, no _focus_ Roman- to look at the demon.

And Roman could admit that the demon he summoned was a rather tall drink of water, but the whole creature of Hell thing was a turn off. Totally not his thing. As was the inevitable dragging his soul to Hell. And his inevitable death at Ma’s hands--wait, no don’t think about that. There was a lot of inevitables going around lately and it tempted Roman to do something truly stupid just to throw the word off its tracks.

“Uhhhh,” Roman glanced around at the near empty street. He smiled at the girl staring at the two of them and waved, feeling way too happy at the fact that she waved back before hurrying off. He turned his eyes back to Lahash, “So are you planning on moving any time this century, Beelze-bud? Or is just standing there all-” He waggled his fingers in front of his face, “- and doing demon-y things?”

Lahash stared at him for a long moment, before pinching the bridge of his nose. Score one for the witch.

“Do you ever listen to the mess that exits your mouth or is it never ceasing stream of useless, unintelligible dribble?”

Roman wrinkled his nose, and stuck his tongue out at the demon, “Buffy speak is a perfectly acceptable way of communicating the thingies that people do the, you know, the thing with.” He grinned at the way Lahash’s eyes darkened with anger. Aaaaand score two for the witch. If he was going to die at least he could make it amusing.

“But that doesn’t answer my question, La Lahash Land, coffee is that way.” He pointed in the direction of the nearest Starbucks and Lahash raised an eyebrow at him. Bastard. “It’s literally within your line of sight. I know that you’re blind to all the good things in the world, but it’s also an evil evil capitalist business and I’m sure you’d be encouraging some sort of Hell agenda by supporting them. They killed Merry Christmas on their cups last year, that’s like your enemy’s birthday right?”

Roman’s grin grew at look on Lahash’s face. Score three, and he was winning. The demon looked like he was struggling for the right words to say. Probably more big words about Roman’s smarts, and how lacking in them he was. Fine by him, the more people underestimated him the better. Roman had never cared, well actually, that was a lie, but he was _master_ at pretending he didn’t care.

“So do you actually say Hail Satan? Like is that part of the customer experience? Do I need a pamphlet. Are there pamphlets for this?” Roman said as he looked down at his hands, envisioning an actual pamphlet. The front would have a pentagram obviously, maybe with cute little horns and a tail, black and red like an edgy teen had tried to design it. Roman pitched out, “Demons 101: How to Care for a Little Shit.”

“More like Demons for Dummies.” Lahash snapped back, “Chapter One is titled How to Summon Like a Fucking Idiot.”

“I think that title is too long.” Roman said with a cheeky smile and patted him on the back, “But good try, Hot Wings. Someday, you’ll figure it out.”

Roman bit back a laugh at Lahash’s face. Score four, and he pulls ahead! Lahash’s nose wrinkled and his mouth twisted as if he sucked on a lemon. He adjusted his glasses and tightened his tie. Roman only had a moment to process holy shit, oh wait, _unholy_ shit that was hot. Bad Roman, no, don’t lust after the demon, that’s how they get you.

Lahash stepped in front of him and stared him down, “We are walking to Angel’s Coffee if you know what’s good for your entrails,” he growled out and perked an eyebrow, “Is. That. Clear?”

And score one for Lahash.

Roman let out a squeaky, “Okay,” before clearing his throat and trying to back track, “I mean, what the hell, I don’t even know where that is-”

Roman blinked at the small paper that was shoved into his face, going cross-eyed trying to read the tiny script. Lahash sighed and Roman valiantly resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at the demon again. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t read the paper card or whatever that was literally inches away from his face! He reached up to snatch it out of the demon's hands and ignored the growl it earned him.

Or at least pretended to, the sound made him shiver and he spent a precious moment trying to tap down on the way his magic jumped. Down boy.

The card was professionally done, and Roman could appreciate the clear artistic eye that went into the simple design. _Angel’s Coffee_ , done in elegant script and framed by a pair of wings. He flipped it over, and couldn’t help his snicker.

_Not halo amount of Coffee! Visit us at xxxxxx!_

“Cute,” he admitted, and went to pocket the card only for Lahash to growl at him again. “Alright, alright, touchy much?” Roman tossed him the card back, “But like, I appreciate the ironic aesthetic and all. But like, it’s _half an hour away_ and have you seen the sky?”

He waved at the dark clouds and ignored the unimpressed look in Lahash’s eyes. Roman almost snapped that he knew rain had never hurt anyone but have you seen his shoes? They didn’t exactly come cheap, before he bit down on his lip. No, that line was too personal.

“Just because you wanna cool down from a stint in Hell, but _some_ of us have _delicate_ complexions and an actual body that _gets sick_. So excuuuse me if I don’t want to go walking in the rain.”

“What are you talking about?” Lashash said as he looked at the dotted clouds in the sky, “It’s lovely today. You need to get your eyes checked as well if you think,” he spread out his arms in the muted sunniness of the afternoon, “ _this_ is going to rain.”

“It’s still half an hour!” Roman said as he followed Lahash down the street, past the Starbucks, “You can’t be serious. Do you even know where it is?”

“Humans have walked for far longer times than a mere thirty minutes only five hundred years ago. And by the alarming number of pizza boxes in your apartment, well,” Lahash turned around to eye him up and down, Roman fought back the blush at the stare, “you need the exercise.”

“We can just call an Uber!” Roman said aghast and pulled his jacket tighter around him, he walked faster to catch up, “It’s only ten minutes of driving.”

“Already out of breath?” Lahash clicked his tongue, “I told you so. We’re walking.”

Roman pulled up into a stop and pointed at the demon. “I,” he declared, “am not out of breath. I am nowhere near what is counted as _out of breath_ \- wait! Wait, wait, hold up, set down the bag, and take a lag. I never agreed to this in the first place!”

Lahash clicked his tongue, “Only catching on now? I suppose I should be less surprised. It’s amazing what humans will do with only the slightest suggestion, such as walking in a certain direction. So many arbitrary rules that you give yourselves. Ah, well, more for me to exploit, such as it is.”

“Excuse me?!” Roman said, “I’m not following your manipulations! I’m standing right here and I’m going to call an Uber. And when you arrive at the cafe _out of breath_ then I’ll have the last laugh! Cause I’m not falling for your demonly tricks.”

Roman crossed his arms. Lahash sighed and turned on his heel and kept walking. Roman tapped his foot on the cement as he took out his phone and pulled up the Uber app. He watched Lahash’s back stop at an intersection. He typed in the address. He shifted from foot to foot as the light counted down. The Uber blue route lit up on screen. Then the clamor of the crowd as they crossed the street. He lost sight of Lahash in the masses.

Roman swore.

He took off into a run and crossed the street just as the light turned to red. He heard angry honks behind him as he bent over his knees and panted. He swallowed in wet breathes, he just ran a whole block, fucking shit. Roman looked up from the grey pavement to see two familiar business sensible shoes in front of him. He straightened to see Lahash smugly looking at him. Before Roman could tell him to wipe that irritating smile off his face, he turned around and went back to walking.

“We have to turn right at the next light.” Roman muttered next to him, falling in step, “You do know Google Maps, right?”

“No.”

“You’re insane.” Roman said, “Did you just walk in any direction? Were you planning on asking for directions?”

“Yes. Do humans not do that anymore?”

Roman wasn’t sure what noise escaped his mouth but whatever it was made Lahash’s smirk tick higher upwards. _Damn him to Hell_ \- wait, would it be better to bless a demon? Roman wondered vaguely if he should have known that by now, or if someone had told him before and he had just forgotten. He wasn’t used to needing to be the one with the knowledge. Ma would have his hide if she found out- Nope, he was still avoiding thinking about her learning anything about him right now.

Roman tapped at the screen of his phone, squinting to get a better look at the map. “There’s an alley up head that it wants us to take-”

“‘It wants,’” the demon muttered, “As if humanity has the ability to create something with feelings.”

Roman ignored him. Barely a few hours of knowing each other and it seemed they had already fallen into a pattern. Roman didn’t want to know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He really didn’t want to think about how having someone to _talk_ to was a heady feeling. Or how his plans on breaking the deal were slowing getting pushed back behind showing Lahash that he was in fact an adult. And that humanity was awesome. And that he was intelligent.

And _wow_ , this was such a bad idea. Huge. Oh god.

“- so if we happen to get mugged, you really should refrain from murdering anyone,” Roman continued smoothly. “I haven’t had to hide a body in years.”

That drew Lahash up short and Roman adjusted his scoreboard accordingly. Haha, who’s a loser? Not Roman!

“You haven’t killed anyone,” the demon scoffed, and Roman smirked. The longer the silence stretched on, only the sound of footsteps around him, the more Lahash seemed to waver. “No, no, you haven’t, you don’t have the guts for it.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Roman singsonged, a bounce in his steps.

“You are infuriating,” Lahash said, and Roman winked at him.

“I do try my best. It’s a gift.”

“A gift of idiocy,” Lahash muttered, eyes sweeping the alley. Huh, Roman wouldn’t have thought he’d take the warning seriously. It was unexpected, but not unappreciated. Not that he really thought there was going to be a mugger in the alley, it was a quiet town after all. It never hurt to be prepared though. “Was it from your mother perhaps?”

Roman let out a shriek. No one got to talk like that about Ma.

“You need to cool your jets,” he hissed, flinging his hands out, magic sparking at his fingertips. Wait, no, no, no, he didn’t want sparks! The dumpster just left of Lahash caught fire and Roman yelped at the whoosh that came from the sudden change. That- was not a water spell. Nope.

Silence fell between the two of them, and Roman coughed into his hand. “That will be you if you ever talk about Ma like that again.”

Lahash stared at him for a long moment, turning slowly to look at the (thankfully) quickly dying fire, and then back at Roman. “Well,” he drew out, then deadpan, “That is about an accurate summation of my mood for the day.”

Roman yelped again and almost stumbled trying to follow after the demon. “Like a….” he glanced back, “A dirty dumpster fire?”

“Sure,” Lahash said, waiting at the corner for Roman to take the turn they were supposed to, “As well as being misused by the most incompetent witch I’ve ever had the dishonor to meet.”

Roman bit down on his tongue. It wasn’t exactly a _wrong_ assessment of his skills. Roman had managed to pull a demon from Hell when he had just been trying to craft an assistant.  He rubbed at the sigils around his wrists, and clenched his jaw.

“Oh I can’t have been the worst,” he tried to wave off.

“That’s up for debate,” Lahash said, eyeing him with intelligence that seemed to pierce his soul. Roman grinned and shrugged shameless.

“What can I say?” Roman waggled his eyebrows, “My life is simply an _explosion_ of adventure. I never had time to learn control, and everyone loves a little wildness in their love anyways.” He winked and blew Lahash a cheesy kiss.

“I don’t believe you can handle _my_ sense of wild.” Lahash said, and then pulled a wink. Roman felt his face flush, he just _had_ to summon a cheeky demon, didn’t he? “Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

Lahash said nothing and goddamn his _smirk._ Roman shoved down the monkey part of his brain. How did this demon already manage to wrap him around his little pinky? Oh god, he was in over his head wasn’t he? Then he saw the exit to the alley was ahead. Roman let out a relieved sigh as he saw the green cafe doors on the other side of the street come into view.

Lahash came to an abrupt stop, “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself.” he turned to Roman and held out a hand, “My human name is Logan.”

“Logan?” Roman said as he shook his hand, then bit back a yelp as Logan’s hand tightened, “You must _never_ speak my demonic name in front of anyone. If you do, I’ll be forced to kill them on the spot.”

Roman gulped as he saw Logan’s fangs grow in and peek out his lips, “Okay.” he said with a squeak.

“You must never order me around. And don’t you ever use your magic on me, _witch_.” Logan spat out, his red eyes appearing for moment before fading, “There’s a special torture in Hell for the witches who dare to do so. Even today I can still find pieces of them stuck to my shoes.”

Roman’s eyes widen and his lungs couldn’t take a breath and his heart pounded. He felt the ghost of claws digging into his soft palm. Logan smiled and Roman felt his heart skip a literal beat at the fangs glinting back at him.

“Do you understand, _Princey_?”

“Crystal clear.” he said with a strangled gasp, and then Logan finally let his grip go, Roman took his hand back with a hiss, “Is that the Orientation to Demon 101? Cause it sucks.”

Logan smirked and then turned his gaze to Angel’s Coffee.

Oh, Ma was going to _kill_ him.  

* * *

 

It was one o’clock and the lunch rush slowed to a trickle. Finally, Virgil’s fingers and feet could rest. He bit back a groan as he leaned against his counter. His feet begged him to take a fifteen minute break two hours ago. He really should’ve bought better shoes on the last shopping trip. He knew this was his dream job but it wasn’t easy on the sensitive sole.

Patton was rubbing off on him. A giggle escaped him. Man, he should tell Pat. He could use the laugh too. Sensitive _sole._ Comedy gold.

Virgil turned to him. Then frowned, Patton had been adjusting the counter display for the past five minutes. He remembered that call earlier, he knew Patton said he was fine, but he still felt his stomach roil with anxiety. Virgil bit his lip. There were no customers at the moment, so he steps closer, away from the register.

“Patton,” Virgil said, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Patton startled and turned to him with a smile, “I’ve never been better!” Patton ran his hands down his apron and fiddled with the pens in his apron pockets. He took a breath, “I’m just...jittery. I’m hoping an old friend comes to the cafe. I’m not sure if he will but if he does, well, so much the better!”

Patton’s smile was unrestrained in its brilliance, “Golly, it’s been so long!”

“Must be some friend.” Virgil said teasing, “Do you want to talk about him?”

“...No, not really.” Patton said after a pause, “Not right now. If he shows up, then I’ll let you know who it is. Otherwise, we can eat the cookies I made and talk about him then.” Patton walked over to him and put a hand on his arm, “I promise, dear.”

Virgil knew he shouldn’t press. There were some things in Patton’s past that never failed to make him clam up for one reason or another. It didn’t really matter too much to Virgil, not when Patton was open with him about not wanting to talk. Patton tugged on Virgil’s arm to take his place at the register. Virgil leaned forward to peck his cheek and walked around to pick up the dishes on the tables.

Virgil heard the bell above his door chime with new arrivals. He turned his head to the sound as he picked up plates. The two men made him do a double take. The one in front strided in as if he owned the place, his red letterman jacket making him look like a stuck up jock that never left high school. Already Virgil detected _asshole_ all over the man’s windswept hair and chiseled jawline. He mouthed something off to his friend, a smirk and a wink, and Virgil hated anyone who looked so good effortlessly.

His eyes drew to Adonis Asshole’s friend, who hadn’t followed him inside, and just stood outside. Adonis threw his hands in the air and and stalked back to his friend, the two leaning forward to exchange rapid words under their breath. Well, that wasn’t shady at all. Virgil worried at his thumb as the friend winced walking through the door and let out a shaky breath. Virgil watched him walk to the nearest empty table to the entrance while Adonis sauntered to the counter.

Then the friend’s eyes shot over to him from his table and Virgil felt a sudden clench around his throat. He averted his gaze, focusing on cleaning up his plates. Shit, he hadn’t even realized he was staring. That was so _rude_. Virgil felt the heavy stare on his back as he stacked dirty plates, making his spine prickle and neck burn with a flush. There was something off about that man. He wasn’t one to judge, money was money, but it made his mind twist in knots.

Virgil hoofed it back to the counter and through the doors to the kitchen in the back. He set the plates down in the sink and pushed his sleeves back up to his elbows. He sucked in a breath. It was okay. Patton’s jitters just made him twitchy too. Nothing was wrong.

He walked back out and watched Patton grab the two finished coffee orders by the machine. Virgil went to the register while Patton walked to the pick-up section. They worked in tandem, a silent rhythm, beneath the perpetual faint music playing overhead.

Patton called out, “Order for a Roman and Logan?”

Adonis blushed as he stumbled out of his seat, “Ah yep! That’s me! Roman, haha.”

“It was nice of you to be _roman_ around here and stop by our cafe!” Patton said delighted, “Enjoy the coffee, sir.”

Roman blinked at Patton and in a heartbeat, the almost endearing nervousness disappeared under a smirk. The asshole leaned forward and Virgil felt his grip on the counter tighten.

“Well with a cutie like you serving it, who wouldn’t?” The asshole had the nerve to wink and Virgil grit his teeth. He glared daggers at the man, wondering if he could set Roman on fire with the force of his gaze alone. At the very least, make the uppity customer uncomfortable. Patton giggled, and Virgil tried to pick out if it was an amused or uncomfortable one.

“Oh thank you!” Patton said, before bringing his hand and ring up to view, “But I’m afraid this cutie _pie_ has already _filled_ that spot in his life.”

Roman squealed, Virgil’s shoulders jumped to his ears at the sudden noise, “Oh my gosh! Congratulations! Who’s the lucky gal? Or guy? How did it happen? Oh I don’t mean to pry but I’m such a sap for weddings!” He bounced on his feet as he leaned forward on the counter, “When’s the date?”

Virgil drifted to Patton’s side, “We haven’t picked a date yet. We’re still debating on a winter or spring wedding.” Virgil narrowed his eyes at Roman, “So take your coffees, sir, and enjoy them.”

Roman took the coffee with a sheepish expression as he slid back to his table. Virgil tracked Roman and his perky ass back to the table and his friend with a glare. Damn it, he was hot. Then Virgil felt Patton grip his arm tightly. He wasn’t that obvious was he? Virgil stumbled as Patton dragged him to the kitchen with a yelp.

Patton let him go and walked into their refrigerator. Moments later, he set down an assortment of cookies. Virgil had seen Patton make them the minute he came back from the latest demon attack. Patton quickly transferred the cookies onto a platter with a lace center. He bent over his work, tongue sticking out in concentration as he lined them up just right.

“What’s up, Pat?” Virgil said, “You’ve been acting weird for the past hour.”

Patton straightened and turned to him, “Oh sorry, honey. I saw my friend out there. I just…” he glanced at the cookies, “wanted to welcome him after so many years.” Patton’s eyes glazed over as he thought about some distant dusty memory. Virgil guided his fiancé to sit down at the table. He pulled up his own chair in front of Patton, and leaned against the table.

“Oh Virgil,” Patton said as he put a hand on Virgil’s face, his smile a little sad like the time Virgil told him he was moving schools, “I was planning on telling you about Lahash after we got married. It’s tradition you know.”

“Lahash?” Virgil said, his tongue awkward around the name, “Who is he?”

“I know I don’t talk about Heaven.” Patton said as he tugged Virgil’s hands into his own, “But I can tell you about him. Lahash was my only angelic husband, he was my first, and we’ve been married for eons. Even before that, we were friends before the first stars were born.”

Virgil felt his mouth grow dry, “What happened?”

Patton’s hands tightened, “Lucifer rebelled. Lahash took his side. We had to fight on opposing sides of the War until God decided to force Lucifer and his Army to Fall.” Patton took a shuddering breath as he looked down at the checkered tiles, “Lahash fell with the Morning Star and his grace corrupted and it made him who he is today. A Demon.”

There was a silence that was heavy with unspoken questions, history, and ultimately, pained sorrow. Virgil knew Patton fought demons and devils daily but he didn’t know his... _friend_ was one. He swallowed thickly.

“Are you two...still..” Virgil said, his shoulders tight to brace for the worst, “Married?”

“No, honey.” Patton told him in a gentle voice, “He divorced me that day. I didn’t ever marry another Angel again. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it.” Patton reached up and rubbed a thumb over Virgil’s cheek, “But humanity and their love is so pure and beautiful. Humanity taught me so much over the eons. And you, Virgil,” Virgil leaned into his palm, “don’t know how much your love has saved me.”

“You’re getting sappy, Pat.” Virgil mumbled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Patton said, his smile wider at the declaration, “You’re the first human I can ever introduce to Lahash. Oh gee, this is exciting! I made him some cookies to entice him here.” Patton kissed him with a loud mwah, “I can’t believe it! He actually came. I wish he had come after I told you all about him. Oh there’s no use for that now. I can still tell you later.”

Virgil let a smile spread on his face, “You’re really happy about an ex-husband. I won’t mind if you take the bat from upstairs and smack him a few times. It’s the human way.”

Patton burst out with a laugh, “Oh, I’m still really mad. But I’m not _bat_ shit insane.”

Virgil hummed a light agreement as Patton poked at the cookies to get them into the perfect arrangement. He knew that Patton had a whole list of ex-lovers, but there was something about the jittery way that Patton approached this one that put him on edge. Maybe Virgil was just bias against goddamned _demons_ , or maybe it was just the quiet sad way that Patton talked about this Lahash. Maybe it was his anxiety coming around to make his life hell as usual. Whatever. He was going to keep an eye on this demon just in case.

He had promised to protect the angel as best he could after all.

Virgil hauled himself to his feet and trailed after Patton, shoving his hands in his apron pockets. He smiled softly at the bounce in his fiance’s step as they exited the kitchen and made a beeline for the table with Asshole and The Ex. Or well, Patton made a beeline, and Virgil dragged his feet to delay the inevitable. It would make Patton happy. Patton was excited. It was fine. It was going to be fine.

Virgil looked up to meet the blistering glare of the demon and fought against swallowing in fear.

Maybe now was the time to panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we have reunions and meeting for the first times!! Boy oh boy. I'm excited. 
> 
> If it wasn't clear before now, Logan is the demon Lahash. But he won't be referred to Lahash anymore in this fic unless we call back on it. So don't worry about tripping up on it (Patton was Phanuel). So it's just Logan and Patton from now on. We are really excited about this fic and hope y'all enjoy it too!!
> 
> Leave some kudos and comments :D!!


	3. How to Duel a Demon (Verbally)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan meets Virgil and he isn't happy about it, to say the least. Roman is mortified and Virgil is ready to face off with a demon. Patton just wanted to eat cookies with his ex-husband, why did it end up like this??
> 
>  **Warnings:** Language, mentions of STDs, slight nsfw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient!!! Life got hectic for the both of us and we got our big bangs posted! Now we can finally update all the WIPs we have. Also huge thanks to our beta my-happy-little-bean!!! She is super great and we love her. Also shoutout to worm for being an amazing co-writer and I adore writing fics together with her - Puma

Logan’s hands itched under the table as he watched Phanuel approach, reminding himself that claws were not appropriate in this setting. He would have loved to savor the grin on Phanuel’s face, if not for the parasite tagging along behind him.

Their near-matching outfits made him want to tear something off them. Preferably Phanuel—just so he could claim him as his own once more—but he wouldn’t be picky about tearing apart the uppity human that thought he could mingle with Celestials.

He glared at the human, victory snaking down Logan’s spine as he shivered. Good. He should be aware of what he was messing with and just what danger he was in.

Logan fought the urge to lick his lips. He did rather enjoy a chase, and one like this where there was a reward at the end of it might make the entire wait worth it. Phanuel was worth it.

The human glared back at him and Logan grinned, sharp and dangerous.  

“Logan!” Phanuel greeted, waving wildly. “You came!”

Logan’s grinned smoothed out to something softer. He wanted to reach out and place a kiss along each of Phanuel’s fingers, to shower his angel in the love that he hadn’t been able to give over the last indeterminable millennia.

“Of course I did,” Logan said smoothly. “You asked me to, Phanny.”

Phanuel’s giggle sounded just like he remembered. “I go by Patton now.” He pulled the human forward, his hand wrapped around the vermin’s arm in an intimate gesture that Logan narrowed his eyes at, “And I want you to meet my fiance! His name is Virgil. He’s as sweet as cherry pie!”

Patton bounced in place with a high pitched noise of glee as Virgil hunched under Logan’s piercing stare. Virgil ran a hand through his hair as Patton watched the motion with a fond smile. Logan wanted to hiss at the sheer amount of excitement, no matter how adorable it was, that this _Virgil_ brought out of his ex-mate. He watched as Patton’s hand drifted down from Virgil’s arm to his hand, running a soft thumb over the back of the human’s knuckles in soothing circles.

Logan felt his mood sour as he turned to face the twitching cockroach that held Patton’s hand. His eyes narrowed at the matching engagement rings that clinked against each other. Logan’s skin itched over his bones and he resisted the urge to peel it off. It would upset Patton to get blood on his linoleum floors.

Logan looked back up at Patton just in time to catch that wonderful smile fading.

Ah, he hasn’t said anything yet, has he? How rude. Logan swallowed past the bile that sat at the back of his throat and stared at ‘Virgil’.

“Greetings. My name is Logan.”

Virgil remained frozen at Patton’s side. His mouth croaked, but no sound came out. Irritation pressed at the dips of Logan’s temple. Was he slow? Why did Patton let himself be engaged to a man too scared to live in his own skin? The fates of sniveling cowards often were quiet in their obscurity. Logan’s fingers twitched as they remembered all the screams they have muffled in some dark corner.

Roman leaned across the table and thrusted a hand out to Virgil. “Hello! You may call me Roman!” He winked, adding, “Or The Wonderful and Amazing Roman works, too.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but stilled as he heard two huffs of laughter instead of one. His head shot up to catch Patton giggling and Virgil shaking Roman’s hand with the barest hints of a smile. A flash of envy left a searing mark on his heart at how easy Roman charmed Patton. The two of them sat down across from them in their booth. Logan glared at Virgil and wished desperately that Patton sat there instead.

Virgil ran a hand over his mouth, Logan tracked the motion with all the intensity of a predator preparing to pounce, if only he could. He wondered, idly, if Patton would ever forgive him should something happen to this Virgil. Surely he knew how fragile and short human lives were, and if one were to be cut a little shorter, well. It wasn’t too much of a tragedy.

Logan’s eyes narrowed as Virgil meet his eyes squarely. The human’s mouth twitched into a smirk before he, very deliberately, turned away from Logan. Logan felt the anger at being dismissed beat against his chest, hands curling into fists.

“So, the Rather Stupid and Arrogant Roman,” Virgil said, and Logan almost missed the offended noise that slipped from Roman’s mouth while he plotted the human’s murder. Virgil’s smirk grew as he leaned forward, resting one of his arms against the table. “What brings you to our hipster abode during this horrible time of day?”

“I don’t like you,” Roman hissed. “What, I’m not allowed to visit places like this? I didn’t see any sign saying that you discriminated.”

“Oh, we’re not the ones who discriminate, Mr. Quarterback,” Virgil shot back and Logan’s eyes snapped from him to Patton as a whine slipped from Patton’s mouth. Logan’s hands twitched in an aborted lunge. No one, _no one_ , got to upset Patton.

“Virge,” Patton scolded, poking at Virgil’s arm. Logan traced the action with burning eyes. He could remember a time when Patton touched him just as casually, and he ached for it to return. He wanted to reach out and touch like he had so long ago.

Patton curled up into his side as he continued, “You can’t talk to a customer like that!”

“What are you going to do? Fire me?” Virgil grinned as Patton poked him again. Logan bit back a snarl as Virgil nudged Patton with his shoulder, sending Patton into another fit of giggles. Something under his hands ripped, and Logan found petty satisfaction when he realized that he had damaged one of their tablecloths. He wanted to tear apart every reminder of their happy, _stupid_ life together.

“Maybe I will,” Patton teased. Logan gritted his teeth at the flirting tone that Patton took on. Virgil opened his mouth to flirt right back and Logan couldn’t take it anymore.

“Patton,” he cut in and hated how they both jumped at the word. The idea that they could get so wrapped up in each other, while he sat right next to them, grated against his bones. He wanted to thrash and shout and whisk Patton away. Sweep him off his feet and take him away from all earthly desires. And be together again, at last.

“Virgil,” Logan added as he adjusted his glasses, and resisted the urge to whip them off and let this human see his real form. That would certainly solve his problem and make him feel better. Patton would know he was involved for certain though.

“I find myself curious. When was the last time you talked to your doctor? Seeing as I’m fairly certain that someone like you has–” Logan wrinkled his nose, looking Virgil up and down– “caught something while bumping uglies with other worms. Your kind is quite frivolous. I would hate for Patton to… contract something.”

Virgil gaped at him, mouth opening and closing several times while Logan smirked at him. Roman turned slowly to look at Logan and whispered ‘ _what the fuck?’_ not quite low enough to escape Logan’s supernatural hearing.

Patton’s face paled of all color and instead of moving away from Virgil, he held Virgil even closer until they almost shared the same seat. Logan’s eyes widened as something welled up in the atmosphere that tasted like ozone and lightning. Patton’s eyes gleamed from behind his glasses, but Logan refused to back down. He leaned forward as if to imply ‘ _Really? You’re going to kill me?’_ and raised an eyebrow.

He turned his gaze to Virgil, still pulling together no doubt a snarky answer.

“Well? Answer me.”

Virgil croaked, “I...w-what, no I haven’t– no wait I meant–”

“It’s a divine miracle,” Logan said with false cheer. “I’m surprised a human like you can speak around that giant angelic dick in your mouth.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Virgil said faintly. Logan twitched as Patton laid a hand on his arm, leaning forward to address Logan, something dark gleaming behind his glasses. Logan braced himself, running through the words Patton had used the last time they had fought. He knew the paths that Patton would take and he would be prepared for them.

Virgil’s hand came up to rest on Patton’s and Logan blinked as the human’s face darkened as well. Virgil’s lips peeled back into something that could, if one stretched the definition, be considered a smile.

“Maybe,” Virgil said with a growing smirk. “At least I get to have it in my mouth.” He leaned forward and flicked Logan’s forehead. “Tell me, Logan, just how thirsty are you?”

“Oh my gods,” Roman whispered in horrified awe from the side. Logan shoved him and his horrified tone out of his mind, baring his teeth right back at Virgil. Patton looked wildly between the two of them. Logan considered whether to jump across the table to throttle Virgil’s throat and wipe that dirty grin off his face.

Virgil reached up without looking away from Logan, his fingertips stroking Patton’s cheek in an intimate gesture that had Logan growling. Virgil rolled his eyes and turned to face Patton, pausing for a single moment as he stared at Patton. Logan fantasized about tearing Virgil’s spine out through his neck. His fingers dug into the table as the two leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

The wood creaked under his grip as Virgil tilted Patton’s head to get better access, the sound of tongues sliding together mocking his more advanced hearing. His nails dragged against the table as Patton’s eyes fluttered even while shut and he had to bit his tongue to keep from shouting that _he_ was the only one allowed to make Patton look like that. He hissed as Virgil’s mouth dropped from Patton’s to nip at Patton’s jaw. Patton made a sinful little squeak as Virgil licked at his throat.

“Why don’t you go a little lower?” Logan said, his tone acidic. “Give the rest of the world even more of a show like the little slut you are.”  

“I would pay to see that show,” Roman whispered, before the sound of his hand slapping over his mouth echoed in the silence. It was enough of a distraction that Logan almost, _almost_ missed Patton’s flinch. Logan narrowed his eyes, how odd.

“Don’t mind me,” Roman squeaked with a faint blush on his cheeks. Logan turned and flicked Roman’s ear.

Roman, startled, whispered, “Fuck, what the hel– heck, Logan? Wait no, don’t answer that, I know what that was for.”

“Good to know you’re not a complete moron,” Logan said, slight amusement curling in his chest despite his dry tone. Virgil moved in the corner of his eye and Logan’s amusement died a violent and brutal death. Logan looked away from Roman’s pouting and flushed face to glare at Virgil once more.

Patton giggled nervously with a blush dotting his freckled face.

“Well then,” he said breathlessly, “I’m going to take that as a compliment! I see you got a good ol’ case of the _roman_ eyes; but I’m taken, sugarcake.”

Logan’s teeth ground together as Roman snickered and leaned forward.

“I think we all got that message,” Roman said, his grin growing with Patton’s own smile. Patton’s blush deepened as he giggled again and Logan gouged even deeper marks into the table. “Stormy Knight made _that_ perfectly clear.”

“Then you should _back off_ ,” Virgil growled.

Roman held up his hands. “Alright, My Fear Diary, I got it. All look and no touch. Like a fine piece of art in a museum. I can appreciate that, it’s cool, makes sense. If I had a man like that, I’d hold on to him for all he’s worth too. I mean–”

Virgil opened his mouth to cut Roman off. Logan opened his mouth to snap at Virgil. Patton slammed his hand down on the table, ignoring the way that it made everyone jump. Logan stared at the plastic smile that Patton wore on his face.

“I am not going to repeat myself, so listen carefully,” Patton said in a tone that reminded him of Patton’s gleaming armor on the heavenly battlefield. “Do not  _ever_ talk to me like I’m not here. Like I’m a trophy to be won.” Patton pulled away from Virgil and leaned back in his seat as he crossed his arms. “I thought you were all better than this. I’m disappointed in you.”

Virgil groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. “Using the Dad voice? C’mon, you know that’s not fair.” He hunched into his shoulders. “I’m sorry for sounding like Jared. No one should sound like Jared or worse, Alphonso. God, if I ever start to sound like Alphonso just take me out back to be shot like a dog.”

Logan watched in disbelief as Patton’s mouth softened at the edges. His arms loosened from its tight grip as Virgil tugged a faint smile. Patton pointed accusingly at Virgil. “Bringing Jared up is a dirty tactic.”

Virgil grinned. “He was 19 and didn’t know how to read.”

Patton burst out into giggles. “Remember the time he smashed a wine bottle over his head and screamed ‘LET’S PARTY’ even though we were at the class president’s bar mitzvah.” Logan’s teeth ground as the anger faded from Patton’s face. Instead, Patton leaned forward with a giggle, eyes distant in memories that Logan wasn’t a part of, “Or that time he tripped over a skateboard into the pool and tried to play it off like he did it on purpose?”

Virgil snickered. “Not as bad as the time that he tried to ask Katie out on a date. Ya know, _the_ Katie nonetheless. Not Katie N., or Katie A. but _the_ Katie.”

Patton’s hands flew to his face to smother the laughter that spilled from him. He shoved at Virgil’s arm lightly. “You play a hard game, Virgil Sanders. Golly, I can’t stay mad at you, and you know it.”

Roman coughed and caught Patton’s attention.

“I also would like to say I’m sorry. This simply got away from me. You’re a lovely man, Patton, to earn your hatred will be a dark stain on my soul forever!” Logan looked between Roman’s hopeful smile and Patton’s wary little squint as Roman continued, “I would love another round of that wonderful coffee you gave me. It will make my day!”

Logan blinked at the way Patton’s eyes widened at Roman’s words. Patton’s face relaxed into a soft smile, and he reached over to pat Roman’s hand. Logan bit back another growl at the action. He wanted to shove Roman out of the way and have Patton direct that expression at him. He dug his fingers even deeper into the table and glared, and both Patton and Roman’s expressions tightened.

“Right away! The same thing?” Patton asked as he stood up smoothly.

Roman clicked his tongue as he threw a wink Patton’s way, “Exactly right, Sugar and Nice!”

Logan’s hands twitched with the need to pull Patton back. He never wanted to let him go ever again. Logan winced as ancient memories stirred at the back of his head. He had done what he believed to be right at the expense of his mate.

Logan let himself fall back into his seat and looked longingly after Patton as he walked back to the counter. He was his mate, once upon a time; when things were less violent and Heaven was nothing more than green pastures in all directions. His eyes focused in hyper detail on the delicate joints in Patton’s fingers as he moved gracefully from machine to machine, red and swollen from a day’s work.

Virgil slammed a hand on the table, startling Logan out of his thoughts. Virgil’s eyes flickered with a darkness that Logan had seen in humans of all walks of life. Sin, anger, greed. They were all the same. Virgil’s fingers curled against the table and Logan raised an eyebrow at the ametur attempt at intimidation. It would have been as amusing as a kitten trying to hunt if it wasn’t getting in his way.

“Hey. Patton made it clear he isn’t a slab of meat to salivate over. Knock it off.”

Logan turned to stare at Virgil with a dark stare and relished in the way that Virgil shifted under his gaze.

“I believe,” Logan said, “that I too, would like another drink.” He tilted his head to the side. “Have Patton fetch it for me?”

Virgil’s jaw jumped as he clenched it. Logan hoped that he grinds his teeth into dust. It would be another thing he could point out to Patton; another way that Logan was superior to Virgil. Logan had full faith that Patton would see it and return to him, but he wanted it _now_. He never was as patient as he should be when it came to things such as this.

  
“If you think,” Virgil said lowly, “that Patton will be serving you like some sort of performing monkey or a kinky BDSM thing, then you will be sorely mistaken, you _bastard._ ” Virgil smiled with all of his teeth again, his voice pitched so low like he was gargling rocks. Logan’s spine went ramrod straight at the tone as red flashes of Hell flickered at the back of his mind. Virgil continued, every word dripping with acid, headless of Logan’s reaction.

“But as co-owner of this fine establishment, it would be my _honor_ to serve your drinks today and every other day that you decide to come in to stalk my fiance like the _creep_ you are.” He straightened. “Now, if you excuse me. I have work to do. Feel free to never call me over.”

Logan growled as Virgil stood up and made his way back to the counter. How dare that sniveling little human — who did he think he was?!

His heart squeezed as he watched Virgil lean over to kiss Patton before going back to man his post at the register. That soft little smack was crystal clear, even from all the way over where Logan was sitting. He cursed his damn demonic hearing for tormenting him.

Logan’s muscles tensed and he almost shoved himself out of his seat when a hand landed on his shoulder. Roman stared at him with kind eyes that held a faint air of sympathy. Logan almost wanted to rip them out of their sockets. He didn’t need _pity_ ; he could take care of himself just fine.

“Hey, you want any cookies? Or pastries; I think I caught a glimpse of them and they remind of things Ma used to bake and believe me when I say those are to die for,” Roman rambled. Logan stared at him. What was his point? “You look like a danish sort of guy. Raspberry. The sort where you can pretend it’s the heart of your enemy and the blood is gushing out of it. Wow, that is– that is not an image I needed, I’m not going to be sleeping tonight anymore.”

“You are a moron,” Logan said flatly. “The number of things that you just said that made sense equals a sub-zero percentage.”

“I have no idea what that means but I’m going to take that as a yes!” Roman said with a grin. “Stay here, one Raspberry danish coming right up.”

Logan watched Roman head towards Patton at the counter and wondered if his dignity still held enough weight that he should avoid letting his head sink down against the gouged table.

Humans. Morons. They would never make sense to him.

* * *

Patton saw a flash of a red letterman’s jacket approach and he smiled at Roman. He glanced at Virgil, his fiance tilted his head and made the low gesture asking if they needed to switch places beneath the counter. Patton shook his head with a small smile. He had a feeling Roman was different despite the demon deal on his soul. He answered Roman’s beaming smile with one of his own.

“Hey, Roman! Do you need anything?”

“You know it!” Roman peered down at the pastries through the glass. He tapped at the glass and looked up at Patton with a grin. “Can I get one Raspberry Danish to go?”

“Excellent choice! It’s _berry_ good!” Patton couldn’t help the giggle that escaped; his pun skills were just that good. “Do you want anything for yourself?”

Roman blinked. “How do you know it’s not for me?”

Patton ignored the cries of the birds on his roof, faint at the edge of his hearing.

“A magician never reveals his secrets, kiddo! And you don’t strike me as a danish guy. More German, am I right?”

Roman laughed and ran a hand through his messy locks. “Close. My great grandma used to be Prussian. But then you know, that dissolved.” Roman leaned back and forth on his heels. “But you’re right. Not a danish guy, but more like–” He pointed at a pastry with a smirk– “a slice of pumpkin pie guy.”

Patton grinned at Roman.

“Well _Pie_ would certainly recommend the pumpkin!” He leaned in closer, delighting in the way that Roman echoed him. Virgil wasn’t one to have fun with dramatics, and it would be nice to have a friend who’d do more than humor him.

“Just between you and me,” Patton whispered with a wink, “I think Virge likes the pumpkin the best too. He likes to pretend it’s Halloween year round.”

Roman gave a huff of laughter. “I can certainly believe that!”

Patton returned his smile, leaning over to retrieve Roman’s order. Roman watched his back. Patton watched him shift in place, at a loss for the right words. Roman’s smile faded as he finally leaned over the counter. “Are you um gucci? I know Logan was a creep back there, but he’s not from around here uh, I can say that for sure. But seriously though, I’m really sorry for my friend.”

Patton sighed as he handed Roman his bag of pastries, “We used to have history together. I suppose he thinks it’ll be the same but that’s not how… life works. And Roman?” Patton said with a soft smile, “Thank you for giving me an out. It was really getting _heated_ over there!”

Patton giggled at the blush that dotted Roman’s face. He wondered how a man like Roman ended up making a deal with Logan, but it wasn’t his place to judge. If his time on earth had taught him anything it was that humans were a diverse, complex bunch. And Father, did Patton love them for it. He bit back on his curious questions. He couldn’t ask a man he had just met things like that.

Roman shrugged, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“Well you know, Ma always talked about creeps like that, and while she could handle herself, stuff like that stays with you. Everyone needs a hero every once and a while and I never quite outgrew the dream of being a prince, you know?”

Patton laughed as Roman winked. He added a gentle reminder; “Well I do believe that I found mine.”

His eyes drifted to Virgil, feeling a dopey smile grow on his fiance bent down to take the order of an older couple sitting near the door. The sunlight caught Virgil’s dark hair and Patton sighed, propping his elbows up on the glass counter as he placed his chin in his hands. Patton loved that they wore formal uniforms in the cafe. The sleek vest made Virgil quite the sight, one that Patton adored and lifted his spirits on the rougher days. He wondered if Virgil would complain about a hug when he came back to the counter; Patton wanted to squish his fiance until Virgil laughed.

Roman shifted in the corner of his sight and Patton startled out of his lovesick day dreaming. Patton wondered if the grief that lined Roman’s soft look was his imagination as Roman grinned brightly at him once more.

Patton coughed into his hand as he straightened. Oh dear, he thought they had managed to finally get acting professionally down. The feeling of Virgil’s lips ghosted across his and Patton had to fight the urge not to touch them.

Then again, maybe not.

“Will that be all for you today, Roman?”  Patton asked, looking away for a moment to gather himself. Now he really wanted to hug Virgil. Roman nodded. “Okey dokey! Then that’s twenty three dollars!”

Roman paled as he squeaked out, “What?”

“Twenty three dollars. The drinks were three dollars each and the pastries were four dollars each. Which adds up to twenty dollars, but–”

Virgil passed by with a smirk, tray of cups and pastries in hand. “I charge an extra three dollars for dealing with assholes.”

Roman gapped at Virgil’s back as he strode easily back to work. Patton smiled apologetically at Roman, trying to ignore the heavy feeling coming from Logan’s corner. He liked Roman. He had missed Logan. But Patton couldn’t bring himself to argue with Virgil this time.

He traced Virgil’s path and winced as Virgil’s eyes locked with Logan’s and the dark feeling multiplied. The faster they left, the better Patton would feel, except _that_ thought made him feel guilty. Great.

Patton clicked his teeth. “Yeah….it’s store policy.”

Roman stared down at his wallet for a long moment, and Patton almost opened his mouth to ask if he was alright before Roman groaned.

“My honor will be besmirched! This is the end of the world, nobody look at me–” Patton giggled, torn between amusement and embarrassment as Roman waved a hand in the air– “I want to _die_.” Patton’s hands flew to his face to smother his laughter as Roman’s head fell against the counter. “No seriously, don’t laugh! This is the _worst_ thing that could happen. You’re going to kick us out and never let us return ever again. Word will spread, no one else will serve a criminal like me and _how will I get my writing done without my coffee?!_ ”

Patton reached out to pat (ha!) his arm. “I promise no one will kick you out Roman. Or well, at least I won’t. No promises about Virgil.”

Roman looked up at him with bright eyes. “Really?”

“Really, really!” Patton grinned. “Do you have a card you could pay with instead?”

Roman winced and Patton’s heart sunk. They didn’t have to deal with situations like this often, but Patton always hated when they came up. He just wanted to give them the food they wanted and wave as they left with smiles on their faces. Virgil said they couldn’t though, and conducting business that way ended in homelessness and death. Patton didn’t think they’d be quite that bad off, but if it made his fiance feel better, Patton would stand strong!

“I don’t really have it on me today,” Roman admitted reluctantly. “I wasn’t planning on paying this much or going this far from home to be honest.” Roman scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, showing off his dimples, “Though meeting a wonderful man like you? Worth it. Absolutely. But yeah. Is there any way I could start up a tab or something? I promise I’ll come back to pay it off! Scout’s, prince’s, writer’s, whatever-you-want’s honor!”

Roman clasped his hands together looking altogether too ready to start begging for the option. Patton brightened. “Yeah! I can start up a tab. Your full name and phone number?”

“Roman Garcia and my phone number is, hold on.” Roman took a pen out of a glittery holder and wrote it on the back of his receipt. “Feel free to call me anytime.” Roman must have seen the way that his smile became fixed as he hurriedly added, “Platonically, I mean.”

Patton’s professional smile softened. “I hope you have a lovely day today. Come back again,” he whispered with a secretive wink. “I think it would be a good _Garcia_ to come by soon, so you don’t forget about that tab.”

Roman broke out into a beaming smile and waved goodbye. Patton toddled his fingers as he watched Roman saunter back to his table. He let out an exhausted sigh, fighting the urge to lean back against the wall and just relax for the rest of the day. He had _hoped_ that would go better, but at least he had gotten to see Logan again and meet Roman! With Roman’s tab, they’d be back. Logan wouldn’t leave just yet.

Father, Patton wanted to see him, but the way he had spoken today made a quiet part of him ache.

Soft arms wrapped around his waist, drawing him from his musings. Patton tipped his head back to lean against Virgil’s shoulder as he watched Roman all but drag Logan out of the cafe. Virgil hooked his chin over Patton’s shoulder and Patton felt himself relax at the gentle hold.

“Hey Pat?” Virgil said, something dark in his tone. Patton shivered, and Virgil squeezed his waist in an attempt at comfort. Patton hummed in response. Virgil pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, and Patton whined as Virgil pulled back. They were still at work but Patton didn’t care. He wanted cuddles. “No offence, but I don’t like your ex.”

Patton stared at the door. He closed his eyes and thought back to his time in Heaven with Logan.

“Well,” he said softly, “he’s changed. We both have.”

* * *

“I cannot _believe_ you said all those things to Virgil!” Roman groaned as they crossed the street. “And in front of Patton! That was so rude!” Roman pointed a finger into Logan’s face. “Listen, wise-guy, I don’t care if you’re a demon, but you better square the fuck up. Stop being a creep and actually be a decent person for once.”

Logan rolled his eyes and shoved the finger back at Roman. “I am neither decent nor a person. I fail to see your point, witch.”

Roman blew out a sigh as they entered the alley they walked through several hours earlier. The walls were just as grimy as he remembered. A chill nipped at his collar and Roman clutched his pastry bag closer to his chest. He didn’t have any money now (thanks Logan), but he would be damned if he didn’t defend Patton and Virgil’s pastry goodness with his life!

Logan came to an abrupt stop in the alleyway. The growl of cars grew distant and the birdsong faded until there was an unnatural stillness in the air. The sun now had dipped far enough below the skyline to shroud the alley’s corners in dark shadows.

Logan’s features sharpened in the soft oranges and shadows of the late afternoon, giving him a more eerie feel. His glasses glinted like sapphires against his pale cheeks. Roman’s breath caught in his throat as he witnessed this rare moment of subliminal beauty.

Something clattered up ahead.

Roman startled and the crinkling of the bright _Angel’s Cafe_ bag undercut the foreboding atmosphere. Logan glared and put a finger up to his mouth. Roman blushed, shifting the bag to one hand so the other could come up. He felt magic spark at his fingertips as he focused on the spell he wanted, and this time, he promised himself, he wasn’t going to light a dumpster on fire.

From a darkened doorway, a man sauntered off the doorstop with a cocky gait and his hands shoved into his back pant pockets. Sunglasses caught the amber sunlight as he came into view. Sunglasses at this time of the day? His cryptid sensors went off like crazy. Roman’s eyebrows raised even higher as he walked closer. He realized with a sinking feeling that the man loomed over him by almost two head heights, and he didn’t even wear heels.

“Miss me, bitch?”

The man grinned as Logan broke out into a huff of laughter.

“No,” Logan said as the man pulled him into a hug. Logan glanced up at him. “It’s good to see you, Sloth. I expected you sooner.”

 _Sloth_.

Roman’s heart leapt to his throat at the name. Logan was a demon, and a demon saying something like _Sloth_ as a name meant very, very bad things. Generally End-Of-Times sort of things. Men screaming in pain from their vices, sort of thing. Odin above, Roman swallowed heavily. Demons were one thing. A Vice was completely another. Now was the time to panic; please Loki never let Ma find out about this. Fuck, he was going to die here and then go to Hell instead of Valhalla.

God, he was the worst writer. Thing this, thing that, no wonder he hadn’t made it big yet. He was an embarrassment to the written word.  

“You know me, gurl,” Sloth said taking a step back. He flung out his arms as if he was on a stage. “I take my own sweet, sweet time on things.”

Roman took a step back as Sloth turned to stare at him, before he could remind himself that showing fear was one of the worst possible things he could do. He shifted his foot, sliding it back into a steadier position. The eyes of the two hellish beings weighed on him. Roman struggled to figure out if raising his hands in defence would only get him killed or if it would save his life. He hated having to face things like this alone.

Logan hummed and Roman fought down a twitch, eyes flickering to the demon. “Well I do suppose that this one may take a while. There _is_ something in this town that’s caught my interest and needs a more... delicate hand.” Logan adjusted his tie as he tugged a faint smile. “This deal grants me a steady position in town and an excuse to stay for a considerable amount of time.”

Roman gritted his teeth, hands clenching as he realized that Logan was talking about Patton. Everyone deserved a hero. Roman didn’t think he would be able to forgive himself if he was the reason the two cafe owners’ lives were torn apart by a demon. Just because he _still_ couldn’t get a handle on his magic, it didn’t mean that he was useless. He had _been_ something at one point, had managed to _do_ something and while things were different now he still had to _try_.

“Hey-!” he snapped, only to reel back as the Vice turned to look down at him. The sunglasses slipped slightly down and the air became absolutely suffocating. Demonic energy crawled along his skin and Roman’s legs buckled under the pressure. He gasped, trying not to claw at his neck, knowing that it would be useless. He needed- Roman should-

A thin barrier of magic would help but Roman couldn’t muster up the _control_ for something like that on a _good_ day. His knees hit the cement; a shock traveled up through his body at the impact. His magic sparked dangerously, a last ditch attempt at protection. Roman’s ears rang as the smell of smoke rose in the air. Roman’s heart seized at the smell and he lost the tenuous hold he already had on his magic.

The pressure doubled, pressing him down against the floor as fire roared up through the alley. His lungs ached, and Roman tried not to think of the word _burned_. His vision tunneled and his mouth opened uselessly in an attempt to breathe. Freya _please_ , he wanted to at least say goodbye to Ma before he died-

He coughed as the pressure fled. His hands hit the cement hard enough to sting as he coughed, gasping for breath and finding only smoke. _Fuck_. He scrambled, trying to wrest his magic back under control and closing his eyes in resignation when he found that he couldn’t. It slipped through his grasp like ash and he twisted to run a finger across the suppression runes on his wrist. His magic vanished with the flames in a wisp of smoke.

The witch who never learned magic, not really. Wouldn’t Ma be proud?

He shuddered against the ground for as long as he dared before glancing back up at the other two in the alley.

“-no, no, no I get what you’re saying gurl, but really a _little_ lack of air won’t kill him. They’re like cockroaches. Stomping on them makes a lovely crunch and then they get right back up again,” Sloth’s voice filtered through Roman’s pounding heartbeat. Maybe praying to Freya wasn’t the right answer. Roman’s heart dropped. He really did hate to reach out for Loki of all the gods. Tricksters were such fickle creatures.

“Yes, well,” Logan said dryly, “I would rather not risk my vacation on the fact you took offense to his tone of voice.”

“It was more the way he looked at you but go off I guess,” Sloth muttered, shoulders hiking up as he turned away from Logan like a sulky child. Roman gingerly levered himself to a sitting position as Logan sighed. Roman winced at the sound, one that came from deep within Logan’s chest. For a brief, stupid second Roman wanted to cheer the Vice on for dragging that sort of sound out of Logan.

Gods, he was so stupid; no wonder he ended up with an _accidental_ demon deal.

Roman blinked at the hand that entered his vision. Logan huffed, and Roman took it before the offer was taken back. Logan hauled him back to his feet, and Roman tried not to feel unsteady; both from the near choking and from the strange show of kindness from Logan.

“Will you be staying?” Logan asked Sloth with a raised eyebrow, and Roman had to bite down on complaints. Sloth shook his head and waved a hand in the air.

“This bitch has something he wants to look into first,” he winked, “I’ll catch you on the flipside. See me around. You know the drill, just so long as it’s not the one up your ass.”

Logan growled, shoving at the Vice. Sloth cackled, the sound sending ice down Roman’s spine. Demonic energy welled. Roman blinked, and Sloth vanished.

Roman stared at the spot for way too long, contemplating the fact that he had meet a Vice and survived. It hadn’t been something on his bucket list, but Roman figured he could check it off all the same.

The ice didn’t leave even as Logan gestured for them to get a move on. Roman swallowed, hurrying after Logan.

So much for a quiet town.

* * *

Sloth slurped his coffee cup loudly as he sat in the far back of the bustling cafe. His amber eyes locked on the cafe owner with his soft brown locks and golden wireframes on his cute high bridged nose. He adjusted his sunglasses higher as he noticed the other cafe owner dropping a kiss on his cheek as he passed by. Interesting, indeed. Sloth narrowed his eyes on the golden band around the finger of his….topic of interest.

Oooh, how quaint.

Sloth grinned with all his teeth as he watched. His laughter clear even across the cafe as he made some terrible pun. Sloth sat in that dark booth as closing time approached quickly. The customers slowly started to file out and soon he would lose the cover of the dinner rush. Sloth’s smile faded at the thought of leaving so soon.

Sloth’s bit down on lips to hide his wretched snarl. The angel’s name tag twinkled in the flickering neon lights, _Patton,_ tch. What a cookie cutter name. He wondered how it would feel to have _Patton’s_ wings under his fingers. Wings that glinted like stained glass in every color, soft red dowry feathers at the base all the way to his razor-sharp purple flight feathers. He was like a walking rainbow. Disgusting.

Patton walked around the counter to flip the sign from open to closed. Sloth’s eyes dragged down his backside. He did love to see him go. Oh, la la! The Creator above really went all out for this little halo. What a _butt_. Sloth smirked as he sucked on his straw even harder as he tried to scrape the last of his smoothie from the bottom.

Patton stilled and whipped his head around.

There was nothing but an empty cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are afoot!!! :O!! 
> 
> Leave kudos and comments with your theories!! We love hearing from you guys and it really motivates us to keep updating!
> 
> we love y'all and see ya next time <3


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